


The Making of a Raspberry Romance

by Sicomoro



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 02:38:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11864907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sicomoro/pseuds/Sicomoro
Summary: Leo is a college student who makes too much time for Instagram and not enough time for productive activities, Phichit is a stripper working to support his academic career (and also his hamsters), and JJ is a loud frat boy/part-time frozen yogurt shop employee.  Two fake IDs and one overpriced Uber later, and what Leo learns is this:The taste of a raspberry is hard to forget.





	The Making of a Raspberry Romance

**Author's Note:**

> do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior LEOCHUCHU
> 
> thank you Peach and Liz for helping me with this!! love u
> 
> According to my French-speaking Canadian girlfriend, JJ would likely curse in French. I had no idea that was a thing. It makes me like JJ even more. unapologetic JJ stan speaking

A beautiful boy is slotting his legs with Leo’s, running his hands through his hair, breathing heady words into his ear that Leo can’t make sense of, because all he’s thinking of is how he got here, how the night started, how he’ll never be able to forget the warmth of this person’s body heat for the rest of his life, and  _wow Leo, that’s dramatic_ , but he can’t help but think that it’s true. His body arches up into this boy’s touch, unbidden, electric— starved, he realizes. Aching.

The boy draws back and Leo's legs make way for him, asking, silently:  _closer, closer_. The boy obliges but stops short of pressing their hips together; it takes Leo every ounce of mental restraint he can muster to keep himself from exposing just how painfully desperate he is for this person, this warm, warm person. A person who now has him trapped beneath dark eyes, caged by the starlight Leo sees in them. The boy crooks Leo’s chin up with one slender finger. Leo is only able to handle it by digging his nails into the plush velvet sofa under him, the only thing keeping him from melting into the ground, a puddle of liquid fascination.

“I said, what’s your name?”

This boy’s voice is music.

“It’s okay if you don’t wanna tell me. I’m just curious.”

Leo now finds himself channeling all that restraint he needed a few seconds ago and using it to force himself to open his mouth. Remarkably difficult, he notices, because his jaw feels like it’s rusted into place. He chokes his way through, “I’m Leo.”

“Leo,” the boy repeats, and Leo dies a sickeningly sweet death somewhere inside, maybe the part of him that ever thought it knew what beauty was. Yes: that part withers away into cotton candy nothingness, leaves him only with the taste of sugar on his tongue, and out of it, something new is born, more solid, unblemished, dazzling, and fits itself into that now empty space. A space that reflects starlight.

“That’s a cute name,” this person says, and Leo wonders, vaguely, if this boy knows how perfect he is, because if he doesn’t, Leo wants to tell him. “It fits you.”

Leo’s never been more thankful to his mother and her lack of creativity with names.

“I like your hair, too. It’s soft, it feels nice.” Both his hands go up into Leo’s hair and ruffle it a bit, and he lets out a breathy little laugh that Leo instantly knows he’s going to replay in his head for days on end. Every song he’s heard, every note he’s written down himself— nothing compares to what he feels now, in the wake of that. It’s the most perfect sound he’s ever heard.

“Sorry, I don’t wanna ruin your hair,” he says, and Leo thinks the obvious of course,  _ruin it all you want_ , and doesn’t say it. His hair is gently pushed back into place by those slender fingers.

Leo highly doubts it’s appropriate to pray at a moment like this, but he does anyway, because he’s not going to take any chances with the dizziness he’s experiencing right now.  _Please don’t let me faint,_ he implores _. Please._

“Okay then, Leo.” Slim arms are curled around his neck, long eyelashes flutter closer. And plump, shimmering lips curve into a playful smile and move now to ask softly, “Let’s have fun together, yeah?”

 

* * *

 

When Leo wakes up the next morning, he’s sore all over, but worse than that is, he can’t actually remember how he got back home. But worse than even that is: he’s extremely hungover.

“Well, that was a bad idea,” he says aloud, and his words catch up to his brain and he thinks, repeatedly,  _a bad idea, a bad idea_. Oh god, he’s so sick.

He rolls over and buries his face into his pillow. He’s really, really nauseous, and he figures he’ll be looking into his toilet bowl later while ridding himself of whatever fruity concoctions JJ handed to him last night.

Speaking of which.

“Oh my god,” Leo says into his pillow, and then pushes himself up. “Oh my god.”

That boy. The beautiful one. The one he touched and talked to and had to hold back from kissing. The one who said, “ _You’re so handsome, Leo_ ,” and made him feel like he could really fall in love, then and there. The one who moved against his hips and giggled into his ear. Fuck.

Leo laughs emptily in the hopes of releasing some of the anxiety accumulating like storm clouds in his chest. He grips his pillow, and calls himself an idiot, over and over in his head, a sorry idiot who shouldn't be thinking like this. Like it’s possible. He’s so stupid. This is ridiculous.

Before he gets sucked even further into a whirlpool of self-hate, he throws his covers off and snatches his phone up from beneath his pillow, notices it’s 2 PM— 2 PM? Shit— and proceeds to speed-dial JJ. Of course, the fact that he has JJ on speed dial is not something he would ever admit to another living soul unless he really felt like he wanted to get ridiculed for months. He does have a few self-destructive habits, but that's something even he would never do.

“JJ,” he blurts as soon as the other picks up.

“Why are you yelling? What the fuck, who is this.”

“Did you not see my name on your phone screen?”

“My eyes are still closed. Actually I don’t even know how I pressed ‘answer’ without looking,” JJ replies groggily, which Leo should have expected. JJ’s a big wine fiend. There's no doubt he's hungover too.

“It’s Leo.”

“Oh.” There’s some shuffling on the other end before JJ burps once. “Marde, I’m so nauseous.”

“Anyway, listen. I can only remember a few things about last night.” Leo squeezes his pillow beneath his hands. “Like, uh. I mean, I think we went to that—“

“It was your birthday, remember,” JJ asks flatly.

“Of course I remember that.”

“Well, we celebrated.”

“I know, god. But like, what all did we do?”

“Hmm…” JJ pauses. Leo waits, to the point that he wonders if JJ has actually gone back to sleep.

“Dude.”

“Ah, yeah,” JJ replies, in a voice that makes it obvious he was starting to doze. “We went to that gay strip club.”

“Right. I thought so.” Well, he knew so.

“I had to have those fake IDs made for us. You know, I still stand by my opinion that the drinking age in this country is like, really unnecessary.”

“Okay, were we there the whole time?”

“Uh, as far as I know, yeah. I’m pretty sure you didn’t wanna leave.”

That sounds remarkably easy to believe. “Okay, and?”

“And… what? We were there all night. Actually, I got to make out with a dude. But to be honest I don’t really remember how we got home.”

“ _And_ , what else happened? Like, I remember a guy, I didn't just imagine that, right?”  _Because if I did I might just die_ , he doesn't say.

“No, man. Since it was your birthday I had to treat you somehow. Private show. That guy was super highly recommended and everything.”

Hearing JJ talk about him so remotely makes Leo feel all the more foolish. What did he expect? Guys like that are  _supposed_  to be charming. They're  _supposed_  to be hard to forget.

Even so.

Even so, Leo plays back the words he said, the sound of his laugh, the feel of his skin. And shudders, and clutches the phone tighter.

He knows he shouldn’t ask, because it won’t help. Still: “What was his name?”

“Hmm? Ah, actually I don’t know. Well, I forgot to be honest. Wait, did he not tell you his name?”

Leo can’t remember if he did or not. He’s never going to drink again. “I don’t know.”

“Zut. Oh well. Why, anyway? Do you wanna know, I mean.”

Because I'm quite possibly in love with that man, is probably not something he should say, so he doesn't, and instead ekes out a mild, "Curious."

"Oh. Well, how was it? Pretty fun, I'm assuming."

It's a correct assumption. "Yeah," Leo says.

A pause. "What, like, that's it?" JJ laughs. "Sounds... anticlimactic. If you know what I—

"Please stop. There were no climaxes involved.” Which is a lie, actually, but that’s not the point.

“Huh, is that right. Even though I remember you being really happy when it was over. You even got his number on your face, lucky asshole.”

“What?”

“I said, you were really happy when it was—“

“ _No_ , I mean, what you said after,” Leo interrupts. “Number, what?”

“When you passed out at the bar he came by and he wrote his number on your face.”

Without warning, Leo drops his phone and scrambles to the mirror hanging on the back of his door. He yanks his hair out of his cheek and— sure enough, written there in silver marker, six legible numbers.

Six. The last three are smudged beyond recognition. Immediately, Leo feels his soul break.

He can hear JJ calling him from where his phone sits on his bed. He goes over, picks it up, and promptly says, “Kill me.”

“What, why? Are you okay?”

“I can’t read all the numbers. Three of them got smudged.”

JJ bursts out laughing.

“This is like the one time you shouldn’t be laughing at me, are you serious? Are you serious? I didn’t wanna even tell you everything because I knew you’d laugh but I actually really liked him, you know? He was beautiful." Frustration runs an angry course over Leo's body. His face feels hot. "Seriously, don't laugh."

JJ is a good enough guy, so he listens. He says, "Okay, I get it," and sighs. "Well, tell me then, what happened between you two? Clearly you did something right."

“I don’t know what it was ‘cause I felt like I was being awkward for like, the majority.”

“Take me through the whole story and maybe I can figure it out for you.”

“Doubtable.”

“Why don’t you trust people? That’s such an unattractive quality, you know. At this rate you’ll never get a date with that guy,” JJ quips.

“I’m already not gonna get a date cause I don’t know his full number.”

“Bro, can you just give me the details, please.”

Details? Like what, like that his body temperature was searing against Leo’s fingers? That his voice rung with a playful coyness and made Leo's insides melt? That Leo had looked at him and seen, outlined in pink and red and gold, the next subject of his daydreams and searing nightmares?

“Everything about him was gorgeous.”

 

-

 

_I'm so nervous._

As if on cue, "You seem nervous."

"I am," Leo admits, because to try to lie right now would be an embarrassing failure.

"Don't be," the boy says, in a voice as soft as syrup, close to Leo's neck. "It's just us in here."

"Th-That's exactly why."

“Hmm?” He pulls back and tilts his head— god, he’s so cute. “Would you prefer if it wasn’t just us two?”

“No, absolutely not,” Leo blurts without much thought. He is gifted a tiny laugh.

“Loosen up then. You’re super tense, I can feel it in your shoulders.”

_Of course. Of course I’m tense, I’ve never done this before, you’re beautiful, and I literally feel dizzy. Help_. "Sorry," Leo mumbles, but he doesn't know how to relax. All of this is too much at once; the closeness of him, the shine of his hair, the bob of his little bunny ears, the sharp cut of his collarbone, like it would draw blood from Leo’s lips if he tried to taste it, if he tried to leave a purple mark. Ah, he’s thinking too fast, way too fast.

“Is it your first time?”

“Huh?” Leo jolts at the question.

“Coming here.”

Oh. “Ah, um, well. I mean, it’s my first time at a place like this… in general,” he answers, because it’s true, it wasn’t even his idea to come here. JJ had promised him a surprise; well, he had definitely made good on it, hadn’t he. Leo is probably about two or three “surprises” away from having a heart attack. His face feels like a live coal at this point.

“So I have to make a good first impression, right?” He says that, and winks, and once again Leo feels his heart stutter in his ribcage, like a machine that needs oiling, cranking and sputtering, overworked. It hurts. It hurts, but god, he wants it, he wants the worst of what this person can wreak on his heart, all of it. This burning, trembling, all of it.

The boy’s slender hands find their way to the nape of Leo’s neck and stroke the hair there. Leo shudders, and whips both his hands back there on instinct.  _Fuck_.

"Oh god, sorry, I just—“ He doesn't know what to say. "I don’t— uh, I'm..."

"You aren’t relaxing at all, huh?” Leo sees the flash in his eyes, and then it’s swept away with a few flutters of his dark eyelashes, and it’s like clouds rolling in, and Leo looking outside his window, seeing the lightning crack downward in silence. It’s that anticipation, that wait for the ensuing rumble that he could always feel in his stomach. This is it, the lull before thunder.

The boy grabs Leo’s shirt, yanks him close, and pushes his hips down, moving them in a hard, slow circle against Leo’s own. “But we can break the tension this way, right?" His lips are hot where they touch the shell of Leo's ear. "You're so handsome, Leo." A tiny laugh that rings like bells. "Have more confidence."

_I want to kiss him. I want to touch him_ , he thinks desperately, so desperately.  _I want to bend his legs back_. And the filthiness of his own thoughts embarrasses him, because it's never been this way, not with anyone. No one has ever captured his interest enough for him to consider stuff like this. Like making this boy gasp and whine beneath his own hands. Leo has never known that it could be like this, that he could be like this. Fevered and ravenous.

"Fuck," he hisses, because this feels so good, and he's already starting to feel that hot buildup low in his stomach, the sparks kindling upward. His fingers can't find much of a grip on the sofa under him, so he scratches at it helplessly, and lets out a sigh.

"That's a nice face you're making, you know?"

Leo looks into his starlight eyes, darker now than they were before, deep with sparkling supernovas. And a faint red blush, like pink sugar, pink sunsets, on his cheeks. A beauty like this is unfolding before him, and Leo can't do much more than open his mouth and breathe out, "You too."

"Yeah?" His smile is crooked. "I can show you more."

"O-Oh." Can he. "Oh, well that's..."

"If you can handle it."

"I can," he stammers quickly. "It's... yeah. It's fine, I can."

"Good." The boy shifts just slightly, pushing Leo's back into the sofa. "This gives you a better view."

With no warning at all, he picks up the rhythm of his hips again, and Leo watches his body move like a wave, the latex and lace of his bodysuit clinging to his skin. He thinks,  _Oh my God_. He thinks,  _Fuck fuck fuck_ , and he thinks,  _He's so pretty, he's so sexy, I'm in trouble. I'm really, really in trouble._ The dim ceiling lights wash over this person, tracing over his rounded edges, the gentle slope of his shoulders and the soft bones of his wrists, and Leo scratches once more at the sofa while his own breaths scratch the inside of his throat.

The boy grabs at the hem of Leo's polo shirt, pushes it up enough so his hands can rest on Leo's chest as he rocks himself back and forth. "You're feeling good, huh?" He grinds downward slowly, deliberately, once, two times. "I can tell."

“You know, somehow… I don’t think I’m the only one,” Leo says, because as nervous as he feels, he can admit that he knows that much. It’s obvious.

“Hmm, yeah.” The boy’s nails press gently into Leo’s skin while he gives a breathy laugh. “You’re right. Do you think that’s selfish of me?”

Selfish, really? Leo can’t respond, and settles for vehemently shaking his head. The boy snorts. “That’s cute. You’re really cute.”

“You’re one to talk.” There’s no way Leo deserves to be called cute when someone like this exists.

“You think I’m cute?” he asks innocently.

Oh, come on. “You can’t be serious.”

“Kidding,” the boy singsongs. “I’m very self-aware, actually.”

In that case he must know just how much damage he’s inflicting upon Leo’s feeble heart.

“Thanks to that, I know a few things you haven’t told me, Leo.”

Leo blinks. “Huh?”

“This.” He stops his hips, and grabs Leo’s wrists, brings Leo’s hands close to his own body. The snarky grin on his face is both adorable and teasing. “I know you’re dying to touch me.”

Well, it’s useless to play dumb when this boy clearly knows how beautiful he is.

“Yeah,” Leo concedes. “Yeah, I am.”

“I never said you couldn’t.”

Leo’s fingers twitch. That can’t be true, right? He can’t actually be offering that. Or was JJ wrong when he told Leo to keep his hands to himself? Is touching allowed? Is this a joke?

“Well… I never said you could, either.”

So it was just him being coy again, then. “Oh, uh, I mean… It’s all right, I won’t.”

“Thank you for reassuring me,” the boy laughs, and Leo really is starting to feel foolish. “But I wasn’t done.”

He pushes Leo’s shirt up even further, until it’s at his neck. He fiddles with the lapels and looks down at his torso, which Leo is positive is flushed an embarrassing shade of crimson. “Here’s something else I know.”

In an instant, his face is right there next to Leo’s own, noses almost touching. This time Leo can feel the boy’s laugh like a feather over his own lips.

“I know you wanna grab me and kiss me,” he whispers. His hands go into Leo’s hair and down to his jaw. Leo feels his face tugged even closer. If he tilted even a little bit he could brush their lips together like he so desperately wants to. “I know you'd make me feel good if I asked you to."

The thought of something like that makes Leo shake, back arching slightly off the sofa. The buzzing of his blood in his veins is undoubtable; it tells him you want this, and you want it bad, worse than you’ve ever wanted anything.

_Go get it._

“Ask me to.” The time for being nervous is over. If his desires are so easy to read, he may as well put a voice to them.

For the first time, the boy looks caught off guard. But he slips easily back into his flirty demeanor and places his fingers into Leo’s hair again. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you.”

“You would too, I’m sure.”

“Such confidence all of a sudden. Makes me wanna put it to the test.”

Leo, in answer, pushes up and nudges their hips together: a silent promise.  _I’ll make you feel so good_. He isn’t sure what he’s expecting from this, but really anything that this boy lets him do will be good enough for him.

“Okay,” the boy says. “Let’s see what you can do.”

He pushes himself back, but grabs Leo’s hands once more and places his fingers on the tiny zipper at the top of his bunny suit. Leo doesn’t waste time unzipping. The suit pools at the boy’s hips, and Leo gets an eyeful of smooth dark skin and a slender waist that fills his minds with lots of images involving grabbing it and pulling it back towards him. But for now he just traces his fingers over it and listens to the tiny gasps that result. Soon enough though, the boy is squirming, impatient. Leo’s hands sweep up and then down again, settling at his thighs. There isn’t time to think about how this is actually happening; not much, anyway. Leo rolls his hips up, and the boy follows suit by pressing his down. They keep up a rhythm like that, and Leo reaches up and pulls him down close, moves his lips to the boy’s neck.

“If you leave a mark you’re dead,” the boy says, in a strangely sweet tone.

“I won’t.” But Leo certainly would love to. Instead, he presses fleeting kisses, and works his way to his jaw. He knows a real kiss is probably too much, so he won’t even try. It’s just nice to get close.

His hands make it to the small of the boy’s back, earning him a shudder.  _Cute_ , he thinks immediately,  _That’s so so cute_. So he traces patterns there, and revels in the small electric movements, the subtle jerks and spasms, and wonders what it would be like to put his mouth there, to draw out those twitches with his tongue. His hands trace up the boy’s spine and the noise that comes out is adorable, a little  _nnn_  like some sort of kitten.

“Oh wow,” he can’t help but say.

“Looks like you were right.”

“About?”

“I am liking this. And I do feel good. And I want you to make me feel even better.”

That needy voice of his is really doing things for Leo. Or, more accurately, doing things for the erection mercilessly trapped in his jeans. “Tell me what to do.” It’s instant, no questions asked. He’d do anything.

The starlight gleam in the boy’s eyes turns predatory but it makes a welcome sight nonetheless. Leo never knew he could like this so much. Before he can think much more, he’s pulled from the sofa entirely.

There’s a large glass table in the middle of the room and the boy promptly sits at its edge, spreads open his long legs. He yanks Leo closer by his shirt before pulling it off of him entirely and reaching down to unbutton his pants and pull them down just enough, leaving his briefs in place.

JJ certainly never told him anything like this was going to happen.

“I don’t seriously have to spell it out for you, do I, Leo?” Arms wrap around Leo’s neck. “You’re a smart boy, right?”

“God, you’re cute.” He really, truly can’t help it. He’s so fucking cute.

“So give me a reward for being so cute.”

It isn’t something Leo prolongs; it’s pretty clear they both want this too much to stall any longer. So Leo pushes against him, and grips those hips in his hands and breathes into his hair and wonders, vaguely, how he could ever have anything better than this. Because this body is so soft and lean and alive against his own, compact and warm like it houses a little inferno. And if that’s the case Leo is quite content to burn to ashes.

There isn’t much thought to it. Leo pulls away and look down at him, gauges his reactions and moves the way he knows the boy wants him to. He doesn’t think and he doesn’t stop. This isn’t for him. It isn’t, but it feels good to do it, to follow orders like this. Leo stores this feeling away for later, when he has time to mull over it and ask himself if, actually, he may not be a bit of a masochist, and wow, wouldn’t JJ have a field day with that.

“ _Ahh_.” A small sound. As soon as he hears it, Leo knows he needs more of it. So he rocks forward, harder, and the boy’s sounds start to fill the room. And the boy trembles and grabs hard to the table edge and the sight of him is just ridiculous. It’s unreal. But Leo knows it’s really happening because he can feel the sharp pain from his teeth biting down on his lip, keeping him as grounded as he can.

The boy starts rocking back, and it happens quickly after that. He gives a full-body shudder and some short gasps that turn into long sighs. And then those turn into whines when he gets too sensitive. That’s when Leo stops.

In a word: incredible.

The boy grabs Leo’s neck and pulls him down. “Good,” he breathes. “That was good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re sexy when you’re confident.”

“O-Oh.” Should he say thanks, what? It somehow feels like his confidence is wearing off now that he’s not desperately trying to make this boy come.

“Oh, you’re shy again,” the boy teases. “But I gotta admit that’s kinda cute too.” He moves his face close to Leo’s jaw. “I hope I see you again, Leo.” The words are whispered like they’re meant to be secret, even when they’re in this private space. “Do you want to see me again too?”

On automatic, Leo says, “Yes,” with probably way too much conviction.

But it’s worth it for the smile he gets as this boy pushes himself away, moves to stand up on those remarkable legs Leo hasn’t seen enough of considering their position. He wants to run his hands over them. He settles for staring.

“Then I’ll see you later.” He pinches Leo’s cheek. “But for now I have some cleaning up to do, if you know what I mean.”

Leo continues staring even as he walks out the door. It takes him a little while to totally wake up, but when he does he realizes that he’s still shirtless with his pants dragged part of the way down, and it might not be a good idea to meet JJ like this.

Which is when he realizes JJ is  _never_  going to believe this.

 

* * *

 

“You’re right, I really don’t believe that.”

“Didn’t I give you more than enough details for you to believe me?” Leo blurts.

“In the first place, earlier you told me there were no climaxes involved when, uh, there clearly were. Idiot.”

“That’s because you were making an innuendo. You know I hate when you do that.”

“You sound like such a baby. How were you this lucky, it makes no sense. Damn you,” JJ grumbles.

“I thought you were gonna help me figure out what I did right.”

“I’m too jealous for that right now. You owe me big time, you know. For my next birthday if you don’t pay for at least three dancers I’ll hate you forever.”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying.”

“Excuse me, annoying? Who paid so you could have your little fun? Who worked overtime at the fucking frozen yogurt place so you could have a good birthday? Who had those fake IDs made? Who paid for the Uber to the club? Who went  _out of his way_  to make sure that you—“

“ _Okay_ , I get it, I’m sorry. Not sure where I’ll get three dancers that’ll be willing to put up with you though.”

“Did you seriously just say that? Because let me tell you, when you passed out at the bar I got multiple offers to spend the night with lots of random guys. Multiple offers. But I said no because I had to make sure you got home safe. You’re so ungrateful.”

“I worship you, King JJ.”

“I'm hanging up."

**Author's Note:**

> I tend to write very long chapters, sorry ((´д｀))  
> if you'd like to talk to me pls hit me up on tumblr @victuuri or twitter @syca_mas!  
> hopefully I can get the next chapter out in a timely fashion.  
> thank you ( ´ ♡ ⁾⁾⁾)


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